


Mundanity

by WritingParadox



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Oneshot collection, as always, basically rick running from his emotions and the past..., idrk, it's rick and family times! happy days! yeah, rick is human and ordinary but still a mad genius, there's a plot but it's hidden for awhile
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 11:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingParadox/pseuds/WritingParadox
Summary: Rick Sanchez is an evil scientist going on adventures with his grandchildren. But in between adventures he eats cereal, watches TV, fixes household appliances, fulfills orders for his customers, and drinks a lot.The mundane life of Rick Sanchez is nothing to glamorize.((Basically, a compilation of different events in his life and there maybe a plot later on. Just planting hints for the plot here and there each chapter.))





	Mundanity

**Author's Note:**

> ...it's shit  
> ...so much shit  
>  if you have any friends or family who eat shit contact Dr. Wong
> 
> \---also the first line or two is taken from a prompt. Yes, this chapter is split up oddly and it's a mess. There's kinda A/B plot going on, but they aren't connected. Just a little glimpse into the past for no reason. There's no connection. I just wrote it this way so shut up. Okay. Thanks! :) ---

“Do you feel guilty? Like, at all?”

“I don’t have time to feel guilty and neither do you.” He pushed aside the German-made screwdrivers on his desk and replaced the tools with crystals that shone brighter than the Sun. Wiping the dust off his hands, he glanced at his companion. “It’s just a part of life, sweetie.” He tried offering his arm for a half-hug, but she refused.

“Well, I’ll have no part in it.” She frowned and shook her head before taking her leave.

When she closed the door behind her, he slumped into his work chair, sighing and then grimacing at the crystals. "I guess it’s just us now," he spoke through gritted teeth.

They responded back with a chorus of hallucinating hues, but each crystal fought for their own solo. Their unique lusters and magnitudes competing for the lead role, like flickering Christmas lights that had a kink in the wires.

He ignored their speech and threw a thin tarp to hide their luminosity. "Guess you’re not much for company," he grunted.

\--------------------------------------------------------

  
His whiskey swirled in the glass, collecting in puddles and oceans. He hesitated on taking another sip, his lip quivering and his eyelids pulling down like curtains. Exhaling over the glass, he allowed his eyes to glaze over and his aching muscles to relax. He leaned back in the chair and focused on darkening the world around him. No matter how hard he shut his eyes, it wasn’t dark enough as stage lights danced in his vision.

“Dad!”

His brow twitched, but he pushed on to the path of meditation with the waft of alcohol prickling his nose hairs.

“Dad, are you upstairs?”

He pushed away from the desk and swiveled to face the door. His throat laden with guilt and muddy with liquor, his lips worked in circling motions unable to produce any sound.

“Well,” his daughter sighed, “if you’re up there, we’re off to get ice cream.” She placed a hand on the railing, hoping that he might come down to meet her. “If you wanted to come along, we’d be more than happy to --” The chair from upstairs creaked. She swallowed her breath and pushed herself away from the stairway, her body shuddering against the emptiness of the house.

Rick pulled on his labcoat, wiping his mouth on the sleeve and ridding any excess onto his pants. Stumbling for the door, he hiccupped, “Coming, sweetie.”

Beth straightened her back and tightened the grip on her purse. "You made it through the day.” She could barely make out the line of stubble dotting his chin and the circles under his eyes were more bruised than usual.

On the last step, he allowed himself to meet her gaze. “I make it through everyday, don’t I?” He paused, examining her compassionate and determined eyes. “Until I die, which --don’t take my word for it-- but that day is coming soon.”

Her face fell, her pupils lost swimming among the varying shades of blue. “Dad….”

Rick tightened the top on his flask and stuffed it in his pocket, heading for the front door.

“We all gotta die some day, Beth.” He took a moment to glance in her direction and fought off a reassuring smile. “But that ice cream might not make it.”

“What?”

“The ice cream is going to melt,” he shrugged, averting eye contact.

“Dad….” she tried to think of something clever to say and bringing up the past were off-the-table. She reached forward with her arm, but pulled it back to her chest. With small steps she approached him, each stride calculated and controlled.

Before she had the chance to make the next move, he turned to face her with a smile.

“That ice cream is going to leave you.”

Her lips parted, momentarily forgetting his reminder of death and abandonment. Her cheeks upturned in a childish smile. “Not if it leaves you first.” She punched him in the chest and ran out the door to the car.

Her kids, confused, leaned forward from the backseat.

“Uhh, Mom?” Morty attempted to get her attention. “Mom?”

“What ice cream flavor do you think we should get? Not rum raisin.” She giggled at herself.

Morty and Summer exchanged a look.

Inside the house, Rick stood, glancing back to the upstairs. He shook his head and marched out into the garage.

Beth honked the car’s horn, her smile brighter than the sun. “Come on! It’s going to melt.”

Rick stifled a laugh. “What type of pathetic ride is that?” He huffed and leaned against his space cruiser, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Patting the cruiser, he hopped in his ride.

Summer and Morty proceeded to unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car.

“Wait. Where are you kids going?”

“To get ice cream, duh.” Summer drifted toward the space cruiser and settled in, ignoring her mother’s confusion.

Beth caressed the steering wheel, hoping for some sort of answer or sign. She stared at her kids piling into the rusty, garbage vehicle.

Rick pretended to honk a horn. “Bitch, let’s gooooo! Get in!” he motioned for his daughter to get out of her car.

She sat in the passenger seat and fumbled with buckling her seatbelt even though it was just like a regular car, perhaps ripped out of one. “So, we’re going to Baskin Robbins down the street in your sci-fi car?” She chuckled. “Isn’t that going to --I don’t know-- stand out?”

“Nooo. We’re going ice cream hopping. It’s like bar hopping but ya know ---better? In a sense, I guess? Some shit about health. It’s healthy, right? Ice cream is dairy and that’s on the food pyramid that they want you to buy into because we all know the dairy company just bought that spot. Product placement, am I right? You know you don’t even need dairy in your diet as an adult? But who gives a fuck? I don’t. Sweetie, I don’t know. It’s just ice cream.”

\--------------------------------------------------------

  
The crystals weren’t anything special, but he didn’t know that. He confused them with another genus. Was it the Allycorps of the X-78 dimension on the Gem planet, which are known to have mind-altering capabilities? Or was it just another mineral? He admitted to himself that it was suspicious how easy it was to get them.

“Just kill one guy and they’re all yours,” the con-artist rubbed one of the crystals clean.

Rick drooled, mesmerized. “All mine?”

“Rick,” his wife pleaded him to come to his senses. Her arms crossed as she swayed from the balls of her feet. She tried to stay as still as possible but the wandering eyes of passer-bys made her uneasy.

“Diane,” he cursed, glaring at her. They locked eyes. Rick licked his lips, his brow twitched, and he broke eye contact, turning his gaze back to the dealer. “Can we have a moment alone?” Taking his wife by the arm, he guided her to the corner, the street lamp flickering off their faces.

He sucked in a breath and nodded when they were out of earshot. “What is it?”

Sighing, she contained her temper and let her arms fall to her side. “Are you sure we can trust a Gromflomite?” Clenching her fingers into a fist, she struggled to show empathy.

Rick looked back and smiled at the man standing in the alley. He reached for Diane’s delicate fingers and gripped onto her fist, pleading for her to let go of her worry and to hold his hand. Analyzing the dimension and the citizens walking by on the almost-deserted street, he offered her a weak smirk. “Sweetie, these insects don’t even have a working plumbing system. What’s the worse that could happen, huh?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“We could get killed.” She rolled her eyes.

“This is what I want, baby. Let me have this.” He kissed her forehead and waited for her response.

“Okay,” she caved. “But I didn’t encourage this.”

Rick pulled her body closer to his as a silent thank you. Grinning from ear-to-ear, he sauntered back to the insect creature waiting in the alley. Malice reflecting in his expression, he began to sort out a deal for the glowing crystals.


End file.
